Deserved Narcissism
by Capitalist Vixen
Summary: And much of madness, and more of sin, and horror, the soul of the plot.
1. cliff hanger? Never!

**Don't know yet if I'm even going to have any ships yet. Depends on what the reviewers want to see. Basic plot to the story is Voldemort wants Draco for some unknown reason ……… Ginny and Harry are getting lil visions that are clues as to why Voldemort wants Draco and Hermione is stuck with the reading list that's the key to everything. I'd like to give a great big thanks for my beta Melly and I hope everyone enjoys.**

Sound track: Sublime- Summertime, Rooney-Blue side, Rolling Stones- Sympathy for the Devil, Gary Jules- Madworld, Deftones Minerva

The countryside flew past in a blur as Draco amused himself by letting a random tree or house catch his eye and deciphering exact details as it passed. He had removed the curses and hexes from his body expertly, from practice at home and the healer classes he had taken. Draco disappointedly looked back on his year. Really needed to think over better witty repartee for Potter and company for next year. Then again if he was going to be watched more closely, he might as well act stupid. Within the ranks of Voldemort it was not a blessing to have brains, or self-consciousness, for that matter. There was nothing better for Lord Voldemort than to have mindless sheep to do his biding. 'Why can't Greg and Vin see that?' he thought unhappily to himself. His 'bodyguards' were probably as miserable about their situations as Draco was.

Draco knew that when he arrived home it would not be a happy scene with his mother's constant bitching and Voldie's persistent vigilance. Hopefully this summer would be better without his father's monotonous droll and consistent beatings.  He sighed, that wouldn't last long. Lucius may be an asshole but he was a rather intelligent and cunning asshole, not to mention rich. And with those combined he was bound to find a way out relatively soon. Damn. Oh look, a black sheep. 

At the station Draco met up with his driver who promptly took his luggage and ushered him into the limo waiting outside, but not before Draco could steal a look at Potter. He watched intently as the members of the Order of the Phoenix intimidated Harry's aunt and uncle. 'Yep, I'm jealous. Get over it,' he bitterly thought to himself. 

"You're pathetic. Your petty jealousy of Potter is nauseating, yet you wear it like a flag. I can see what you feel and that will kill you someday."

Good ol' daddy dearest at his best in the role of the perfect example parent. It never ceased to amaze, his lack of seeing my revulsion at the sight of him bowing to a half-blood, thrice defeated, figment of a wizard. The limo flew unseen over the cities at hundreds of miles an hour. They reached Sasso Lungo in less than five minutes. From afar it looked as if a sheer cliff had decidedly sprung from the ground for no apparent reason but to be. There was a small town around the bottom and an expanse of woodland leading back along the edge of the mountain line. The limo suddenly plummeted like an elevator but, for no more than a few seconds. Next he knew he was at the gates, which stood tall and foreboding in the intricate wrought iron work. Without any form of support from a wall they remained eerily alone. A few house elves stood by to carry his luggage. 

With a whoosh the limo left again, probably to wait after his mother who was most likely whoring her way through Lucius's friends of power and prestige. He pushed the gates open and strutted toward what had once looked like a large chunk of rock and now appeared as a sculpted granite castle. Muggles went on rock climbing expeditions to this place, and it never struck them that there were places where snow never fell. The Malfoy manor had been built hundreds of years ago deeply embedded in the rock. It was a bit of a trek across the grounds to the front doors of the castle, hopping over trick stones, and surpassing the jinxes and hexes, hidden at every large piece of shrubbery. 

From the sides of the castle three gargoyles came to life. Sliding down like serpents, they met Draco at the front doors. One was a large wolf with vast dove-like wings folded to his back; another had the body of a snake but with spindly arms stretching out in front of it and the head of a dragon. The last was the oddest-looking creature of the three. It made the impression that a four year old had taken a picture of a snake, a lion and a goat, cut them apart and pasted them back together to form something wholly new and morbidly disturbing.

"Good day, Fenrir, Jor, Meryl," Draco said, nodding to the beasts towering in front of him.

The one he called had Fenrir gave a curt nod to the others and walked back up the castle, letting the door behind them swing open. 

Draco gave a quick glance around the front entrance, looking for the odd solid black robes amongst the glossy red and white speckled stone that would signify the presence of Voldemort. Having not seen them he lightly took the grand staircase by twos to make it to his room before his existence was noticed, panting house elves following close behind. Briskly walking through the intricate hallways and passageways, it still took him a few minutes to find the corridor down which his own chamber was waiting. With one last turn he would be in blessed sanctuary. One last…

"Shit." The curse came unbidden to his lips and left before he could stop himself. There standing in front of his destination was the tall, evil, ominous figure of the dark lord.

Did that bastard actually sneer at him?? Nope, that was just the permanent fixture of his face. 

"Do you so honestly enjoy making a mockery of yourself?"

"It's a favorite pastime." 

"Your father will return within the week."

"Spiffy."

"He is not beyond throwing you in the dungeons. I, on the other hand, would rather not waste the breath."

"To late." 

And there went one of the most renowned, _EVIL, _wizards to walk the earth, probably to find somewhere else to sulk and look important. Walking with restrained ease and dignity, Draco opened the door, strode in and sat on the bed with a sigh. Hmm something was different. Definitely out of place. Yes, his room was still the green, tomb like slab of marble. Yes, his king size canopy bed still had the black satin sheets, and yes, the wardrobe and desk were still cynical and burnt looking in the corners of his room. The bookshelf looked like a few more books on evil 101 had been added, but that was nothing unexpected. Ah! That was it! There were bars over his 4' by 6' fireplace. 

"What the hell did I do this time?" he moaned to himself.

"Would sir like a snack?" Draco looked down almost surprised at the house elf looking up at him with abnormally large and bug-like yellow eyes.

"Er…. No. Why don't you go wait on the dark lord then?" The elf's eyes seemed to enlarge by twice and start to water. Draco groaned; when did he ever start to feel pity???

"Actually a cookie would be great…any kind of cookie will do," he said with a shooing motion. 

The elf nodded gratefully and bowed out of his room. Draco walked up to his trunk, which had been taken up already by the elves and shuffled in it for his cd player. Oh yes, he was in for a good brood over teenage angst and first-rate disobedience. Firmly attaching the headphones over his ears he pressed play for the deafening beat to drum into his ears. He then took out a book artfully labeled "How to Destroy a Small City with your Window-side Garden." Upon opening it, it read "Draco Malfoy's Diary for Storage on all Thoughts and Intricate ways to Eviscerate his Family."

"Summer time the livin's easy ….. Me an my girl we got this relationship…."

************************************************************************ 

The pounding of feet on the heavy snow echoed throughout the woods. Voices were lost in the density of the air around her but the fact that she could still hear them made her heart leap in fear. Her breathing was raspy from the cold air and her lungs felt like they were being slowly crushed in a vice. That was the magical field preventing the creature from using magic as a means of escape. Wings flapped restlessly, spraying blood in the wake. She heard the spell before she felt it paralyze her. Collapsing to the ground, blood and snow melding around her, she thought to herself, "Damn, knew I shouldn't have increased the price." Then the steel-toed boot hit her head.


	2. Not quite an acid trip

**Sry this one is going to be really short. The muse told me it was a good place to end the chapter and who's to deny the muse? I'll make it up with the next chapter. Please review!**

It had barely been five minutes since the Weasly's had returned home before Ginny ran upstairs to her room with her luggage and the sound of the door shutting followed her. Ginny flopped boneless onto her bed and breathed deeply into her down black and pink snitch covered pillow. Turning over with a huge smile on her face, she began to giggle hysterically. What a year! Finally completely over brood boy, she had found a new world of boys perfectly capable of drooling over her ample body. They weren't much good for anything else though. Well, they were all great to babble on endlessly to and maybe to …wait no, no they weren't. She sighed, looking at her ceiling, eyes following the enchanted butterflies, which were painted there. Yes the year had been fun, BUT would it had been better if there were more people to have _intelligent _conversation with?

After Fred and George had left, Ginny felt undeniably lonesome. Ah well, what's a little loneliness to fighting deatheaters, hot guys who cherished her, the Quidditch cup and the look on Harry's face with her reminder that he was not the only one who had suffered. Another sigh.

"Damnit, I'm starting to brood," Ginny said quietly to herself. Sitting up on her bed, she rolled her shoulders before getting up and starting out her door. Running down the stairs by twos, she dodged her brothers, avoiding all questions and yelling behind her, "I'm out for a walk!"

The steamy summer air felt heavy with pending rain. The sun flashed through the clouds making obscure patterns upon the hill. Ginny looked toward the woods a few hundred feet away and sprinted toward them in hopes that she would be in the refuge of their shadows by the time her mother came out. By the time she reached the forest, the bellowing voice of her mother shuddered the trees.

"Virginia Weasly! Get back here now, there are chores to be done!"

Wincing, Ginny ran faster into the wood to find her usual spot. About a quarter of a mile in she stopped for breath and looked ahead of her trail. The sun was filtering more clearly through the less thickly packed trees a few yards ahead of her. She sighed and leisurely strolled the rest of her way through the brush. Her eyes watered, and she blinked many times before they got used to the sun. Even though the sky was turning a dull gray the water in the air made it seem bright. The enormous oak sat alone, its roots intertwining down the edge of the steep hill, bearing bronzed for the world to see. This tree had always fascinated Ginny, how after so many years it was still able to hold its precarious spot. Plopping down on her spot between two roots, she leaned back and gazed at the village in the distance.

**In the reflection of the blood red eyes were the faces of horrified wizards defensively holding their shaking wands. The pupils of the eyes turned to slits. The view widened around Ginny, and she could see the front of horrific, winged, humanoid creatures and behind them a brigade of deatheaters. Terrified, she looked behind her to see the newly fixed fountain in the front of the doors to the ministry of magic, wizards standing shocked around it. It seemed everything was frozen before her, not unlike the calm before a storm. **

****

**_"Ginny." Snapping around, she looked to where Voldemort was at the back of the army. In his place was a tall boy with meticulously perfected raven black hair and flashing derisive green eyes._**

****

**_"Tom?" Ginny barely whispered. He smiled cynically. The air around him shimmered in the shape of one of the winged creatures. The creature opened his mouth and screamed._**__

Ginny took great gulps of air as if trying to fill her lungs with the reality around her. Frantically she looked up as if expecting to see the combatants around her. Instead she saw the heavy sheets of rain beating against the earth. She then realized that her cloths were soaked through. Shakily she stood and started her way back home on trembling legs. 

"What the hell was that?"

*************************************************************************

The Durslys hadn't talked to Harry since they left the station. They tried not to look him in the eye either. When he sneezed they jumped but still avoided looking at him. Harry couldn't deny that he appreciated the protectiveness of the Order, but it was kind of dull when he could even pick an argument. Well, not _pick _an argument, he meant it was dull when he didn't have to _defend _himself against them. Oh well, at least there wasn't any hassle when he made a beeline to his room. Once he was there any thought of the Durslys immediately left his brain. 

He was alone. Completely. He had no parents, not even a godfather. Harry thought that there should be a sledgehammer pummeling his chest, but when he looked down there was nothing visible that could point to the source of his pain. Suddenly feeling very tired, he crawled into his bed and lay in a fetal position looking out his window. Harry was exhausted but restless, so he lay still trying to keep the tears from his eyes and watched the sun set. Blinking, unsettled by how sleep had crept up on him, Harry sat up from laying flat on his back. Looking down, he was momentarily surprised that he was still in all his clothes before he remembered how he had gone to sleep. The glow of moonbeams shone across his room making it so the outline of his belongings could be seen. 

Harry noticed his stomach growling. He wouldn't be surprised if the Durslys hadn't even bothered to notify him of dinner. He got up and mechanically left his room towards the kitchen. While pouring himself a glass of milk, he felt an inexplicable sensation understanding. He felt the mundane need to scratch his head at this but caught himself before he did so. Shrugging it off, the depressed boy chugged the milk and went back up to his room. Unlike before as soon as Harry hit the pillow he was asleep. 

****

**_The pages, musty with age, slid through his fingers within their leather binding. The letters were foreign, but to Harry's great surprise he could understand everything which was written. There was a certain page he was looking for, something that held great importance. A spell! He just saw the title of the page, Power Transfusion_, _before he skimmed the contents memorizing what he was seeing and closing the book. Looking up for the first time, Harry noticed that he was in an enormous library, but he could not make out exactly where, for only a single candle was lit. On the desk that was before him there was a cage holding what looked like a small, white dragon._**

****

**_"_****_Il sangue che tiene IL." The words vibrated in his mouth, spilled from his lips in a foreign tongue and voice. Looking intently on the dragon, he noticed the change immediately. The dragon, who's glittering, silver eyes had been watching with uncertainty and fear, now grew dim, and its tail, which had been whipping from side to side anxiously, was now limp._**

****

**_"_****_Potere antico che batte," A beautiful opalescent shadow of the dragon now lifted from his body as its initial body began to color gray._**

****

**_"_****_L'Ascensore forte al giusto," Now the shadow had levitated up to eye level and looked to be struggling against something that was pulling it. Harry felt the excitment rise up in him._**

****

**_"E dota......_**__

 in me!"The last words slipped out of his mouth and Harry woke with a start from the sound of his own voice. Pale and shaky with the searing pain of his scar, he tried to make sense of what he had just seen.


	3. Fencing and Research

YAY!! It's an actually LONG chapter. Well as long as I get. Another round of applause for Melly, my patient beta reader and I've got something new to add to the intro. Disclaimer! I er, ::coughcough:: kinda forgot, well I don't own anything. Hope there's anyone out there who might enjoy this story. ::cricket chirps:: Ah well, any ideas for a catchy summary would be great. Please review!

The endless black fabric of the cloak whipped the over priced, heated granite floor with fury in its wake.  Ferocious grumbling, which sounded more and more like growls, echoed alongside harsh curses in the entrance chamber of the Malfoy mansion. Like an atheist angel who is about to name her doubts on religion to God, Narcissa, white golden hair flowing around her like a cloud, approached her husband. Upon hearing his mantra her lips curled in distaste. 

"Welcome back." He turned his electric blue eyes on her and snarled.

"My absence has had you in quite the fret hasn't it now? So tell me, to whom should I expect thanks for lending out my wife?" She shrugged in jest.

"You should be thankful to me. I wasn't able to gain any pocket money in my ways of persuasion for your freedom, and you know how I hate to inconvenience myself." The mocking tone of her voice was accompanied by a perfect poker face. Lucius's demure turned from heated fury at his wife and the time he spent in Azkaban to a controlled look of iciness. He backhanded her hard enough to make her tumble to the ground. Kneeling down before she could rise he grabbed her by her windpipe, applying just enough pressure to make it difficult to breath. 

"Remember my beauty, the only use you have to me is as a child bearer and an ornament. The next time you humiliate me you will be found raped and dead in an unnamed alley." He rose, letting go of her throat, and with a lighter step, sauntered off to presumably meet with Voldemort. Draco watched from his spot on the grand staircase. At the site of his mother standing on shaky legs as she stormed out of the mansion he felt the bile rise in his throat. '_There's nothing you can do,'_ he reminded himself. His mother's masochist tendencies were beyond him, and past experience proved that there was no help to be had with either party. Draco was about to make his way downstairs but an elf had suddenly appeared in front of him.

"Gah!" Draco yelped in surprise. The elf's ears flattened to her head, which was now bowed almost to the floor.

"Trixy is so sorry that she has surprised sir! Trixy is bad, bad elf!! Trixy…"

"Trixy, did you have a message for me?" Draco asked growing impatient. The meek elf nodded in reply. "What is it?"

"Master Cristo has been waiting for you to join him for the fencing lessons."

Draco nodded at this and set off toward the fencing hall leaving Trixy to beat her head on the staircase.

The fencing hall upon entrance was intimidating for the sheer size of it. The steeple ceiling started about 25 feet from the floor, and the entire room was about 50 ft long. Along the side of right hand wall was a line of tall thin windows that faced the forest, and between the windows were benches. To the left the wall was covered with enormous tapestries depicting great wars and scenes of bloodshed. The wall also held a collection of different swords and armor. 

Draco strode in carrying his mask in his gloved hand, already wearing his jacket and knickers. The man who approached him looked around 60 years old with the mind of 27. His thick white hair was shaved in an army cut, and the fencing jacket hung comfortably over his tall lean frame.

"Master Draco, it's been to long," He said with a comical smile and nod of respect.

"Likewise master Cristo," Draco replied with his own ironic grin. They then went to the benches to stretch. After a few minutes, Cristo looked to the wall at the different weapons and said to Draco, "What would you like to begin with today? Foil for a warm up?"

Draco walked up to the wall and took a simple looking Italian epee. "I've been practicing at school. I think we should start with something subtle." 

The fencing master cocked his head to the side in thought. The boy had always had trouble with the patienceit took to master the epee. Whenever Draco had tried to learn the weapon he always ended up getting ahead of himself and throwing a rapid volley of attacks, ending up skewered. He was an expert with the saber though.

"All right Draco," he replied and acquired his own epee from the bag he had brought. The two fencers went to the line and saluted before falling into ready stance. After a few seconds Cristo warily started an attack, which was deftly parried by Draco. After the third attack Draco attempted a repost, and the duel was on. The parries and attacks became a blur of movement pushing the fencers continually back and forth. Cristo was again surprised by the swiftness of Draco's parries. Before, Draco had usually ignored an attack and gone straight to repost, trying to push back the blade with brute strength as in saber.

"Point," said Cristo as he felt the tip of the blade lightly jab his knee. Draco immediately retrieved his blade, took a few steps back and was in a defensive position. Cristo did the same, but before they could start again heavy footfalls signified the oncoming presence. 

" Ah, there you are Draco." 

Cristo's impression of Lucius had been irreparably damaged with first impressions. For a test on his abilities, Lucius had challenged Cristo to a duel with bare blades and sans protection. Upon completion of this, both men breathing heavily and bleeding, Lucius threw his blade to the side and said, "You will do," before storming out of the fencing hall. The cold, unforgiving mannerisms of this man wafted from him like a sewer leakage.

Draco removed his mask but did not lower his blade. "Father, back so soon?"

Lucius smiled cockily at his son. "You didn't think that those moronic, imbeciles of the ministry would be able to keep me back did you." Draco said nothing; there was nothing to be said to that. Lucius scoffed at his own comment and approached Draco with a sharpened saber at his side. "Your attacks are weak and miniscule. You show too much pity. Cristo, you are excused." 

Cristo glared heatedly, but bowed and gathered his belongings. When he was out of the room, Lucius turned to Draco. "Take off that useless garb and grab a sword," he ordered. Draco, without a word, did as he was told. Before he could get into a ready position his father made a quick crossover advance lunge, leaving Draco off balance and his blade insecurely off to the side in effort to parry the attack. Draco ground his teeth in annoyance as he made a rapid crossover back retreat.

"Remember Draco, you must always be on guard for any kind of attack," Lucius said, trying to throw in another attack to push Draco back further, but Draco only stood his ground. Lucius suddenly ceased his attacks and slowly retreated back, making sure that he did not go beyond where he had started. Draco, with blade help up in a defensive position, liquidly followed. Once he was at lunging distance he leisurely leaned back as if to pounce. With two jerks of the tip of his blade he made a beckoning motion to Lucius. With out preamble Lucius whipped his blade forward as if to gut Draco and at the last second, twisted it around Draco's parry and above his head to chop down on his skull. Draco stumbled back and nearly fell but efficiently deflected the blade. Before he could regain his balance Lucius lashed his saber around, brutally beating Draco's own blade back into his throat.

"Clumsy," Lucius admonished. "Luck was the only thing that saved you with those weak parries. How many times must I tell you, always repost after a parry while your opponent is still gathering his wits!" Lucius then turned on his heel and walked out of the fencing hall with his voice trailing him. "Be in the ball room by six. Wear your dress robes."

``````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

It was around five thirty the day after Hermione came home when she received her first owl of the summer. The warm sunlight gaily lit her cream colored room as she read _The Best of P. G. Wodehouse _with Crookshanks happily purring at the crook of her legs. Her mother had given her the book upon her return saying that it was a favorite when she was young. The simplistic comedy helped Hermione keep her mind off more depressing matters. She was just starting to read about the Mulliners when an urgent sort of tapping interrupted her. Curious, she put down her book and looked up to see Hedwig trying to precariously balance on her small window ledge while tapping the window with her beak. 

Confusion writ itself on her face as she rose to open the window. Hedwig flew in gracefully and landing on Hermione's desk chair, making Crookshanks hiss and growl at the intruder. Hermione immediately unraveled the message and sat back on her bed to read it.

**I need you to look up a power transfusion spell. I think it was written in Latin or Italian, but I'm not sure. It's got something to do green guy and I think it might be big. Answer soon.**

****

**_Harry_**__

"Power transfusion?" Hermione said quietly to herself. Her mind set on a task and the Mulliners forgotten she started scanning through her bookshelves and randomly picking out anything that might have some relation. Just as she was going to sit down with her highlighter and notebook to look through the stack of books that towered over her desk, her mother's voice rang up the to her room.

"Mione! Your father and I are going into town. Would you like to come?" She was about to yell back no when an idea came to her. Grabbing her jacket she opened her door and looked down stairs at her mother who was awaiting an answer.

"Would it be alright if I dropped by at the library down Diagon alley?" Hermione asked hopefully.

"You would have to see with your father, but I think it would be alright," the smiling woman answered. Ten minutes latter found Hermione happily walking down the brightly lit and merrily busy Diagon alley, with ice cream in one hand and a large cloth bag adorned with "Alexander's Annals" in the other. She slowly nibbled the chocolate, peanut butter and banana cone as she turned into an offshoot alley that led to the library. In fact the alley mostly consisted of the library, which was large enough to make a muggle block. The alley itself was more like an elaborate plaza, with benches and gardens in the midst of the mosaic tiles. 

At first sight, the structure was magnificently intimidating in size. The pristine white marble reflected the sun, making the building glow. Many long shallow steps led to the grandeur of the entrance of the enormous carved door, which could only be closed or opened by magic. The thirty-foot columns supporting the roof were carved around the edges with gods and goddess walking around the rim. 

Hermione passed a few people loitering and chatting on the steps or in the gardens as she made her way to the entrance. Once she was inside, she happily breathed in the scent of old pages fluttering on nearby tables. Inside were endless rows of bookshelves lining the walls to the ceiling and creating isles, with random desks placed about. Silvery, elegant bats fluttered about grabbing high books for people, while light fairies sat on the shoulders of readers providing extra light. Hermione walked down the center isle leading toward the main desk. The man who sat at the desk looked out of place in the Romantic themes of the library. He was leaning back on a swivel chair with his feet resting on the desk. The book _American Gods _was held in one hand and in the other was a coffee mug with "I was a DADA teacher and I survived" printed on. Dark gray eyes scanned the pages beneath reading glasses, and highlights of what must have been light auburn streaked through the full head of gray hair.

"Hello Mr. Lipski. Book any good?" Hermione asked.

"Hermione," he said with a smile, like that of a grandfather seeing his favorite grandchild. He placed his book on the desk to give her his undivided attention. "The book is…interesting. How has Hogwarts been? Start your own classes yet?"

Hermione laughed politely at this. "It was, as you would say, an interesting year. Haven't started any classes quite yet. I need some help finding a book."

"Ah, straight to business I see. What do you need?"

"Have you heard of any power transfusion spells?"

His brow creased in concentration at this. With a hmmm he waved over one of the bats and whispered something to it. The bat flew off, and Lipski turned to answer Hermione. "I've heard that the idea has been meddled with, but if your talking about what I'm thinking then as far as I know it hasn't even been tried. Detaching someone's or something's soul for its magical ability has been found far too complicated. I could only think of a few books where the subject matter is even mentioned."

"Oh," Hermione said despondently. 

"You can look around, but I think Lurk is getting the only books that I have on it."

"Ok, thank you Mr. Lipski," she said, turning around to find an empty corner.

"Good luck."

Hermione had found her corner in the upstairs balcony, and after a few hours had only come up with one thing. The spell was just too complicated to perform. Too much was involved for both bodies. Hermione sighed and looked through her notebook, which now had a bibliography and excerpts from each book. On the next page was the condensed information. She would just have to ask Harry to be more specific. It was understandable why Voldemort would want this spell. In all the books it stated that if a wizard were to attain the knowledge of power transference that he would be able to easily double or triple his powers. With that kind of power, it was speculated, one might even be able to perform wand-less magic. 

Hermione jumped when a light fairy gently touched her shoulder, waking her from her stupor.  

"Your parents are at the front desk," she said in a tinkling sweet voice. Hermione nodded and gathered her gear in the book bag. With one last look at the unhelpful spread of books across the table, she turned to leave.


End file.
